


Suits, Ties, and Maserati Rides

by ALWrites, penguinberryfest



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Romance, almost a sugar daddy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWrites/pseuds/ALWrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinberryfest/pseuds/penguinberryfest
Summary: Kyungsoo meets Baekhyun on a cold January night in a bar for miserable old men.





	Suits, Ties, and Maserati Rides

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt: PB112** \- As much as Kyungsoo doesn't like the term, he has a sugar daddy. One that is really fucking in love with him.    
>  **Disclaimer: penguin berry fest does not own exo and/or any characters that are mentioned in the stories.** their appearance in these fics do not represent them in real life. **we are also NOT the writers or authors of said fics.** authors will be tagged after reveals unless they wish to remain anonymous.
> 
> the summary is so lame im so sorry omg dshfjsf anyways, to my prompter, im not entirely sure if this is what you had in mind, but its something! i hope everyone who reads this likes it! its just a cute baeksoo fic in truth! :D to E, thank you for helping me with this! im so glad i got to have another baby with you, you're the loml uwu ~ Thank you to the mods as well for giving us a baeksoo fest! It's been awesome writing this!

There is a bar downtown, murky and drab. It is the kind of place where serious men go for a drink after a bad day at work, tucked away at the end of a sideroad, unable to keep up with the clubs that run rampant with students every night. 

The January night sky is pitch black, but the ground glows with freshly fallen snow. It twinkles under streetlamps and headlights, churned into slush by car tyres and drunk pitter-pattering feet. Kyungsoo watches, arms huddled around himself, as a girl in high heels skids along the pavement, caught by her friends just before she hits the ground. Those who deliberately put themselves in impractical situations irk Kyungsoo. He has an affinity for the level-headed and the reasonable—and health and safety. Tutting as he watches, Kyungsoo then contemplates who would catch him if he were to fall over in heels. He can’t come up with a response. His friends would just laugh at him on the ground, but he guesses Chanyeol would offer out his hand.

He had wanted to drink outside of his dorm, but now that he is here, on the cusp of Joole Street, facing all the clubs and their long lines, he’s not sure anymore. They aren’t the places you go for a sad drink at the end of the day. They are the places you go to have a good time, to celebrate even in the face of crippling failure because you have nothing important to do the morning after. Kyungsoo doesn’t want to celebrate. He wants to wallow, brood. He wants to create an action plan to get his ass into gear, to make sure he doesn’t screw up an exam ever again.

He googles  _ sad bars near me  _ and scrolls through the results. That’s when he finds it: The Sweetwater Taproom. Kyungsoo doesn’t think twice. He crosses the road, eyes shifting from left to right and squinting under the headlights of oncoming taxis, referring to his phone for directions. The sideroad is quiet and dark, looking more like a back alley where the bigger clubs dump their rubbish. Nevertheless, it isn’t anything menacing, just deserted. Kyungsoo steps up the bar door with low expectations and pushes it open.

Surprisingly, there is a considerable number of patrons, most of them men drinking in solitude at their own tables, hunched over laptops and iPads and furiously smashing the keyboards, as expected. There are quite a few tables left but Kyungsoo opts to sit on a stool at the bar, sliding into one several seats away from another man who also looks on the brink of despair. Apparently, he came to the right place.

“What can I get you?” asks the bartender, a gruff man who looks half asleep.

“Rum and coke, please.” Kyungsoo flashes his ID, then specifies for the cheapest rum in the house. He shrugs off his jacket and decides to sit on it, slipping it onto the stool beneath him. 

His drink is served to him with a slice of lemon and a short paper straw. Kyungsoo hates those things – they always become mushy – but if it helps the environment, so be it. He considers pulling out his phone to pass the time, then remembers, right, action plan. 

“Three more of these, please,” the man a few stools over says, voice low but not slurred. There is already a neat collection of shot glasses in front of him, all lined up in a row. Kyungsoo eyes the bottle the bartender reaches for – tequila, the bottle with the sombrero lid – and glances back at the man.

“You should go easy on those,” he says, stilling for a second when the man turns to meet his eyes. He is smartly dressed in a shirt and thin black tie, the pressed line of his slacks still prominent along his shins but no longer evident on his thighs. There’s a briefcase and a blazer on the floor by his feet and an iPhone 10 just missing the puddles of condensation on the countertop. On his wrist, his Rolex watch counts down, to the morning, to every deadline, to the day his job gets better.

“Do I look like a lightweight?” he asks, briefly smiling at the bartender as he pours him his three shots and hands him slices of lemon on a napkin with a saltshaker. 

“No,” Kyungsoo responds, shrugging. It would be silly of him to assume the guy is a lightweight if he’s had six shots of tequila and can still speak properly. “You just look like you have somewhere important to be tomorrow.”

It’s only Tuesday. While it might be student night for some, the grind of the labour force’s 9-to-5 doesn’t stop for anything. 

The man considers his words for a second, eyes looking at more than they would for a humouring stranger. Kyungsoo can feel his gaze wandering down his chest, to his thighs, to his snow-caked boots and back up again. It would bother him, if the guy wasn’t insanely attractive himself. Just to have this stranger look at him is an honour; whatever opinion he draws is irrelevant. 

“You don’t,” the man decides, confusing Kyungsoo for a second before he catches on. Right, jeans and a band t-shirt don’t exactly make him look sophisticated. He doesn’t see the point in taking offense either, as his new friend slides two shots of tequila over to him and says: “Guess you’d better share the load with me.”

Kyungsoo chuckles, enjoying the man’s smile as it lights up his tired face. “If you insist.” He downs one shot straight away.

“Are you a student?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods, “at the Met.” 

The man considers it, staring at his remaining drink. “It’s a good school. What are you studying?”

“Economics, second year. What about you?” 

He smiles bitterly, like remembering his job is something that makes him want to cry. “I work in telecommunications.” He looks down at his drink again, and after gathering some courage, tips it into his mouth. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “I have this fancy job title but essentially I just sell phones and internet broadband and manage a few people along the way.”

Kyungsoo can’t imagine anything duller. No wonder he comes to drink in here. He tells him as such and the man just laughs. 

“I’m Kyungsoo, by the way.” 

“Baekhyun.”

Sparks fly between their shaking hands. Kyungsoo wonders if Baekhyun can feel it too.

They talk for the rest of the evening. Baekhyun insists on buying Kyungsoo drinks even though he refuses. It turns out that Baekhyun’s wallet is an endless pit of cash, his slender fingers pulling out note after note with an elegant flourish as he washes his money down the alcoholic drain. Kyungsoo is more flattered than uncomfortable. This guy clearly has a lot more money than he does. 

The hours pass quickly. Baekhyun is just here because he’s stressed, but Kyungsoo tells him about the exam he had today where he had to write a seventy-mark essay and only managed three pages.

“Quality not quantity,” Baekhyun tells him.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo concedes, “but also quantity. The negative marking is going to have a field trip with all the times I contradicted myself.” 

They’ve moved closer, drank more. Baekhyun puts his hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and earnestly tells him: “You did the best you could in that moment and in those circumstances. Whatever is meant to be, will be.” 

Kyungsoo gets lost in his eyes for a while before he remembers to respond, managing an absent nod to Baekhyun’s comfort and support. 

When it hits two o’clock, Kyungsoo decides he should probably head back to campus. “I have a lot of revision to do tomorrow, otherwise I’d stay.” He hates that those words are coming out of his mouth. More and more he is starting to believe that exams only exist to ruin his life. They test how good you are at remembering things, not how well you understand them. Now, they’re disrupting him making a new friend – something he doesn’t do very often.

“I also have to tutor a first year at eleven,” Kyungsoo says just as he remembers it, already dreading the short amount of sleep he’s going to get. He’s stood up, body now closer to Baekhyun’s. He eyes the way his shirt is tight across his chest, how the buttons pull in their holes and reveal tiny snippets of skin. He tries not to think about it.

“That sounds like fun,” Baekhyun teases, chuckling when Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at him. “It was great talking to you, Kyungsoo. It makes a nice change from sitting by myself talking to my phone.”

“Maybe you’ll see me around here again.” He grins, already excited at the idea.

“How are you getting back to your dorm?” 

Kyungsoo pauses, unsure of how to interpret Baekhyun’s sudden seriousness. “I was going to walk.”

“Not at this time.” Baekhyun whips out his phone. “I’ll call you a cab.”

Kyungsoo is about to say that he can just order an uber when Baekhyun presses his phone to his ear and starts talking. He stands, waiting for the conversation to end, then flashes Baekhyun a thankful smile. His concern is sweet and deeply appreciated. It’s nice not having to think of everything himself for a change. 

“They’re outside,” Baekhyun says.

“What? Already?”

Baekhyun just smiles at him like he’s cute.

He leaves the bar on his own, Baekhyun staying behind to use the bathroom and then make his own way home. Kyungsoo shivers in the night as he steps out into the road, blinded when a big black car flashes its lights at him. He thinks nothing of it, then— _ is that the taxi? _

Warily, he approaches the passenger window and peers through, jumping when it winds down and the driver looks across. “Kyungsoo?” 

It  _ is _ the taxi. 

Kyungsoo can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. He kicks his feet against the wall outside his accommodation building, then scans his ID card to get inside. In the elevator, he realises he can still smell the new leather of the car seats, his nose clinging onto the memory of them as though he is clawing back a dream. The last taxi he went in certainly wasn’t a Range Rover with fancy gadgets and glitzy interior LED displays and strip lights. It could be some high-range taxi service that only businesspeople know about, but that doesn’t explain how the car was there so quickly. 

He toes off his shoes once he’s inside his room and immediately reaches for his pyjamas. He is glad he had the forethought to turn his radiator up before he left. Now, he snuggles into bed and reaches for his phone before he puts it on charge to reply to messages. His friends in the group chat are having a heated Pizza Hut vs. Domino’s debate regarding their movie night on Friday, while his degree group chat is just people crying about how badly the exam went today. It makes him feel a little better, then he freezes. 

He didn’t get Baekhyun’s number.

*

The library is silent, though full to the brim with stressing students. Kyungsoo’s tutee is in a panic, chugging his way through a worksheet regarding his exam in a couple of days, scribbling down a draft essay when he reaches the bigger question at the end. It’s an insurance question. How much are people willing to pay to eliminate risk. Kyungsoo would find it interesting if he wasn’t so stressed over remembering it last year. 

He tries to fill in the quiet spaces where his tutee, Sehun, is hard at work and well on his way to popping the vein in his forehead, with his own revision. He still has two exams left that are looming closely on the horizon. It isn’t a smart move, giving yourself a week to learn two entire modules, but Kyungsoo is determined to make it work. But not as determined as his mind is with thinking of last night. Not only is he tired, slightly hungover and completely demotivated, but he is also lost in his thoughts, remembering Baekhyun’s smile, the gentle waves in his hair, the way his eyes caught the bar lights in the most flattering manner when they made everyone else’s appear ill and sallow. 

“Kyungsoo.”

Baekhyun had pulled his tie loose towards the end of the night. His shoulders relaxed, back hunching into a more comfortable and easy-going curve. His feet had dangled freely in the air, ankles crossed, swinging backwards and forwards because the rung felt too formal for their carefree jokes and smiles. Kyungsoo wants to know more about him, like the way his voice sounds forming every syllable, and how he walks, if he sways his hips, if his feet are angled outwards or inwards, if he leans back and swaggers or slips a hand into his pocket just to put emphasis on his slender wrist wrapped up in silver. 

“ _ Kyungsoo. _ ”

Kyungsoo jumps, eyes snapping down to where a pencil is poking him in the forearm. Blinking, he looks up at Sehun. 

“Hello?” Sehun prods him a couple more times. “Anyone home? We’re all stressed but you volunteered to help me so you’re not allowed to think about yourself right now. You can only think of certainty equivalents and risk premiums and the essay I’ve been waiting for you to read for a million years.” He pats the pieces of lined paper he’s slid under Kyungsoo’s nose with a demanding smile. 

“Sorry. Miles away.” 

He picks up his pen and starts going through Sehun’s answers, grabbing a calculator when he needs one. 

“You get laid last night?”

Kyungsoo huffs, nonchalantly muttering: “I wish.” Then, “You?”

Sehun scrunches his face up. “Nah. Everyone has reached that level of stress where the second you stop stressing, it makes you more stressed. Besides, I’d rather do it as a victory thing when this is all over.” 

Sehun is a disgusting over sharer. Kyungsoo rolls with it simply because it’s refreshing. When he signed up to be a tutor, he wasn’t expecting to get the student who demanded all his social media handles just to stalk him and question him about things he did and people he knew three years ago, but then you can never expect people like Sehun to actually exist. They’re friends now, sort of, but Kyungsoo decided quite a while ago to never introduce him to his friendship group. He can just about a manage a few hours of him a week, no more, and definitely less. 

He reads Sehun’s essay and gives him feedback, then has the table to himself for the next few hours as he gets on with his own work and maybe searches for local Baekhyuns on LinkedIn. Without the family name, the search is all but useless. 

A few days pass. The snow clears up. Kyungsoo doesn’t need to wear his huge winter boots anymore and instead wears some old trainers. It ends up being a bad move. The absence of snow does not guarantee the absence of ice, especially black ice. He falls flat on his ass while coming out of an evening revision lecture in view of all the students flooding out the main building and the taxi rank near the small supermarket. A kind girl helps him gather the things he dropped, and he smiles in thanks, then stares at the black Range Rover parked against the bollards. That’s not a usual sight, but it’s familiar. 

He steps closer until the driver gets out the car. If he’s not mistaken, it’s the same man that gave him a lift home the other night which is… weird. Pulled closer by his own curiosity, Kyungsoo stops in front of him.

“Kyungsoo, is it?”

Kyungsoo’s first thought is:  _ he doesn’t remember me? I see how it is,  _ then,  _ huh?  _

“Yes?”

“Baekhyun would like to see you.”

Instantly, his eyes zap to the back seat and attempt to see through the tinted glass. “Is he here?” 

“No. He is currently in a conference call. I am to drive you to him, so long as you have no prior engagements.”

Kyungsoo is intrigued, and maybe a little concerned, by the man’s instructions. Truth be told, it is a little surreal. This is the part in the movie where Kyungsoo groans at the main character for being in awe of someone’s flashy money and trusting a stranger to deliver them to an unknown location. His mind is telling him not to go. But he stands there, frozen, which means he’s considering it. 

Kyungsoo inwardly groans at himself. “Sure, as long as you’re okay to drop me back afterwards.” 

“Those were my orders.” The man smiles and gestures to the car before he opens the back-seat door. Aware of a few curious glances from fellow students as he gets in the car, Kyungsoo bows his head. People might start cornering him into a rich prick stereotype when, in actuality, he could be driven to an abandoned warehouse and murdered for sport – all things he considers on the ride there.

“You can call me Tony, by the way,” the driver says a few minutes into their journey. Tony has the potential to be the name of a serial killer. Kyungsoo has his suspicions. 

Luckily, they stay inside the city limits, no warehouses or suspicious derelict buildings in sight. His heart does stammer when the car turns into a dark garage, but sensor strip lights blink on at their arrival and he peers around at all the expensive cars parked in neat lines, gleaming under the LEDs. This is alien territory, and arguably more concerning than an old factory would be. 

He follows the driver to an elevator and stares at the number fourteen as it glows on the button pad. A man in a suit gets in from the lobby on the next floor up from the garage and presses the number seven, waiting out the ride on his phone and tapping his leather shoes against the tiled floor. This is a rich people building, Kyungsoo belatedly realises, and looks down at his own ripped, faded jeans with a grimace. At least he showered this morning.

The elevator doors open to a small lobby area with a single door. Tony steps forward to key a pincode on the pad in the wall and the door buzzes as it unlocks. He leads Kyungsoo down a corridor that feeds into a monochrome open plan living area with floor to ceiling windows. Flashy.

“Kyungsoo!”

Kyungsoo turns in the direction of Baekhyun’s voice and finds him at the kitchen island chopping carrots. Of course, he’s being painfully domestic. Must he be perfect in every way? His shirt is crumpled, and his tie is hanging limp around his neck, long unknotted, but it’s elegant, almost deliberate. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Kyungsoo ogles his forearms for a second, following the veins, seeing how the fine cover of hair catches the spotlights above. He’s not wearing a watch; Kyungsoo swears the ring of skin around his wrist where it usually rests is lighter than the rest of him.

“Thanks, Tony.” Baekhyun flashes Tony a heart-stopping smile like it’s nothing and waves him off as he comes around the counter to meet Kyungsoo on his fluffy rug. “Hey.”

Kyungsoo breaks out in a smile. “Hey.”

“I believe this belongs to you,” Baekhyun says, taking hold of the clothes cover resting over the back of his third sofa. “You left your jacket at the bar. I had it dry cleaned.”

The phrase ‘dry cleaned’ is akin to a foreign language to Kyungsoo. All he does at university is stuff everything into the washing machine at once and hope the colours don’t leak. 

“I thought you just wanted to see me,” he says as he takes the hanger and marvels at how profoundly it smells of lavender. “Thanks, though.”

Baekhyun nods. “Well,” he clasps his hands together, “who knows? Maybe this was an excuse to see you.”

Kyungsoo catches his eye, smirking just a little, then he turns about the room. The television is obscenely large, hooked up to a sound system that is wired through the walls all throughout the room. There are several remotes lined up on the glass coffee table next to an Amazon Alexa that can probably do something ridiculous like turn up the temperature of the oven if he asked. It’s also spotless – probably not Baekhyun’s doing. Kyungsoo is impressed, even if it doesn’t feel very homey. 

“So, this is your place, huh?”

“Yes, one of them.”

Kyungsoo stares at him, eyes leaving a piece of abstract wall art probably worth thousands even though a toddler could have painted it. “Smooth,” he comments, making Baekhyun laugh and— _ blush.  _ It’s like a pretty dusting of rose petals across his cheeks and nose, some patches darker than others, apricot and coral mixed in with the standard red and pink. 

Baekhyun rubs the back of his neck, then looks around at his cooking station. “I’m making dinner, if you’re hungry.”

Kyungsoo is very hungry, so he says yes. He offers to help cook and Baekhyun obliges, but it quickly becomes apparent that Baekhyun doesn’t know the way around his kitchen. He knows where the fridge is and what’s in it of course, but when Kyungsoo asks for a baking tray, tongs and a wooden spoon, Baekhyun looks at him with this completely lost expression, then sputters around opening cupboards and doors trying to find them.

Nevertheless, dinner is surprisingly good. Baekhyun has a knack for seasoning and timing things in his head. He must have recently moved in, Kyungsoo guesses. Or, he just never cooks. Either way, he’s good at it, and Kyungsoo can tell that Baekhyun is only just shaking off the embarrassment of not having answers to Kyungsoo’s questions. It’s cute, sweet. The whole thing was planned but not schemed. Kyungsoo entertains the idea that Baekhyun wants to impress him and it makes the food taste even better. 

“I should probably get back,” Kyungsoo says a couple of hours later. “Still have those exams and everything.”

Baekhyun’s face is a picture. “Oh no! I completely forgot! I’m so sorry, I’m taking up so much of your time!” He puts his palm to his forehead and immediately reaches for his phone. He only taps the screen a couple of times before he’s ringing someone – Tony, most likely, who Kyungsoo now realises is Baekhyun’s personal driver. 

“No, it’s fine,” Kyungsoo laughs it off. “My brain needed a break anyway.”

Baekhyun smiles apologetically to him, then diverts his attention to his phone. His conversation with Tony is quick, then he hangs up and sighs. “I wasn’t thinking.” He shrugs, running his hand through his hair. For most people, doing so would mess up the styling, skew the parting. Baekhyun’s hair simply falls back into place, not a single strand out of line. “When do your exams end?”

“Friday morning.” Kyungsoo picks up his dry cleaning and folds it over his arm. 

“Okay.” Baekhyun nods, stepping up to him as Kyungsoo starts making his way down the hall. “Maybe we could do something, to celebrate exams being over?”

Kyungsoo’s heart gives a strong nod of agreement. “Sure. Would you like my number?” 

Baekhyun stops like a scratched CD, then jolts back into motion. “Right! Yeah! Yeah, that would be handy, I suppose.” 

_ Handy.  _ Kyungsoo chuckles and takes Baekhyun’s phone out of his hand to type in his number. “Just text me when you want me,” he says, being the casual flirt he’s always teased for being by his friends. Baekhyun goes pink in the face but nods, smiling to one side.

“I will. I’ll find somewhere nice we can go.” He steps past Kyungsoo to open the door for him. The elevator is on its way up when Kyungsoo steps over the threshold, catching a whiff of Baekhyun’s cologne on his way past. 

“Sounds good. I’ll see you on the weekend, then?”

“Right.” Baekhyun nods, waving to Tony as he steps out of the elevator to take Kyungsoo home. “Goodbye, Kyungsoo.”

“Bye, Baekhyun.” He smiles and waves too, and can’t stop smiling until he falls asleep in his own bed an hour later.

*

“My dudes,” Chanyeol, Kyungsoo’s tall friend, puts his hands together in prayer. “We have a difficult decision to make.  _ Two  _ difficult decisions to make, actually.” He beholds them all with a solemn expression, stood in front of the TV looking at them all squashed on his almost-double bed. The stain from Jongin’s Vimto spillage is still on his sheets from a month ago. Kyungsoo can’t help but compare it to Baekhyun’s gleaming white sofa. 

“Firstly.” Chanyeol holds up one finger as though he’s playing charades – something Kyungsoo has vowed to never do again after his friends humiliated him all over Snapchat for acting out Fifty Shades of Grey. “Pizza Hut or Domino’s.” 

“ _ Pizza Hut you cretin!”  _ Jongin screams immediately.

Luhan growls and throws his fist in the air. “ _ Domino’s!”  _

Kyungsoo would rather have a mac n cheese ready meal but here he is, about to spend well over ten bucks on overpriced pizza. Chanyeol orders a vote, then moans at Kyungsoo for not participating. He sides with Junmyeon in the end, picking Domino’s because their deals are often cheaper, and he has to cuddle the sulking out of Jongin while they decide on the movie.

“Let Jongin pick the film,” Kyungsoo says, nuzzling his face into Jongin’s neck because he knows it tickles. Jongin squawks and kicks Luhan in the stomach by accident. Luhan pretends to die. 

Kyungsoo regrets suggesting that they go with Jongin’s choice later when they end up watching The Emoji Movie. It’s so bad that they can’t even laugh at it, and he sighs in relief when even Jongin says they should change to something else. Except, Chanyeol is committed. He can’t not see this through. Kyungsoo plays on his phone instead, wishing he’d actually gotten Baekhyun’s number so he didn’t have to wait for a text. It’s a week until his last exam. He doesn’t know how far in advance Baekhyun likes to plan things but he wants to text him now. He drapes himself across Jongin to make himself feel better and eventually falls asleep, waking up to an Instagram feed of his friends posting pictures of his sleeping face with idiotic captions like: ‘when you’ve had too much dick’ and ‘when you’ve had too little dick and can’t face life anymore’. Luckily for them, Kyungsoo is well past the point of caring about his friends defaming him on the internet. He’d even go so far as to say he finds it funny now.

When Friday comes around, they all try and rope him into a night out on Joole Street for the end of exam bar crawl. Kyungsoo has to decline, then gets teased about having a hot date with a mysterious man none of them can guess the identity of. 

“Text me where you’re going, just in case.” Chanyeol claps him on the back before he leaves after the exam, telling him to have a good time and stay safe. 

Baekhyun is surprising Kyungsoo with the location of their meal out. Kyungsoo has an inkling it will be somewhere expensive, so he’s pulled a little money out of his savings and put it in his active bank account just in case. He also tries to dress up nice but realises he has no nice clothes, so a turtleneck and black jeans have to do. 

**Baekhyun:** _ Outside your building  _

Kyungsoo’s heart leaps at the text and he rushes through tying his laces to get downstairs. He searches for a black Range Rover but finds a Maserati instead, a sleek black car getting countless awed looks from the students passing by on the street. He feels heat crawl up his neck and embrace his cheeks, hesitating for a second because he isn’t sure if he wants to associate himself with that kind of car and that kind of income. It’s only a small campus. Most people know each other somehow, usually from flat parties and course group chats. It wouldn’t take long for news to spread.

Then, Kyungsoo realises it’s Baekhyun driving and decides he can’t miss on the opportunity to see that, so he gets in the car without wasting any more time.

“Hey.” Baekhyun smiles at him, pressing a button on the dashboard to start the engine.

“New car?” Kyungsoo asks.

Baekhyun side-eyes him. “One of them.” 

*

Their evening is exquisite, fine dining at its utmost excellence. There are glass chandeliers and waiters who pour wine with white cloths on their forearms. Kyungsoo lets Baekhyun order for him so he doesn’t have to think about all the numbers on the menu for a while, and gladly sips on the champagne Baekhyun orders by the bottle to celebrate the end of exam season. 

“Whatever will you do with all your time now that you don’t have to study?” Baekhyun wonders, smiling behind his flute. 

Kyungsoo leans back in his seat, resting a hand on his stomach. The portion sizes here are small but filling, and also presented like unique works of art. Kyungsoo really didn’t need his chicken curry to be an architectural masterpiece but there it was, several strips of meat making up a house with the rice the grasslands around it. The appearance does half the filling. 

“I’m sure I’ll find something. A new endeavour.” Kyungsoo feels fancy sitting here, sipping champagne with a man he swears is wearing Armani. Every waiter calls him Sir and the napkins are cloth, not paper. It’s a far cry from his usual chicken joint with the greasy tables and the long line of rowdy students. It’s a far cry from everything he knows, really. But he could get used to it. He likes it, even. And he likes it even more when Baekhyun waves away his money and offers to cover the bill. 

“You can get it next time.”

Kyungsoo smiles. “Deal.”

*

Next time turns out to be the movies. Then, the time after that is a coffee shop. Next, it’s a tour of the botanical gardens flushed with early spring colour. Together, they try out every new restaurant that opens across the city, including everything from Japanese to Turkish cuisine. Kyungsoo pays for every other meet up – because he doesn’t know if he’d call them dates just yet. Occasionally, his finances will stop them from visiting a tourist attraction or going to a five-star restaurant, but Baekhyun never minds. He doesn’t offer to pay for it in his stead either, which is appreciated, though Kyungsoo reckons he wants to. Something tells him that Baekhyun wants to pay for everything, all the time, and while it might be nice to not have to worry about money every so often, Kyungsoo doesn’t want to feel like he’s being bought. 

“Who is he then?” Chanyeol grills him the second he enters his room. “Tell us!”

Instantly, Jongin and Luhan are joining in chorus, demanding to know who Kyungsoo’s mysterious friend is.

“He’s just a guy I met at a bar in January.”

“So you’ve known him for two months already and haven’t told us anything?” Luhan cries.

“Disgusting,” mutters Jongin, shaking his head in distrust. 

“He’s just a friend,” Kyungsoo laughs, punching Jongin’s arm and squashing in next to him on the bed. Believe it or not, the Vimto stain is gone. His parents must have visited.

Chanyeol lets out a shout. “And how long will he be a friend for, eh?” he teases. “Does he go here?”

“No,” Kyungsoo hesitates, “he’s… older.” 

It was only recently that he found out Baekhyun’s age. Baekhyun asked him to pull some bills from his wallet at a hotdog stand and he happened across his driving license in the front slot. It’s nothing alarming. In a decade or so it won’t feel that significant, but at this age, six years is a considerable amount of time. 

“You like older men?” Luhan gasps. “I knew it. Is he a silver fox?”

“Not  _ that  _ old. Gross.” Kyungsoo fakes a deep shudder. “He’s twenty-seven, that’s all.”

“Ooohh,  _ daddy, _ ” Jongin whines. Kyungsoo punches him for real this time.

It makes Kyungsoo think, though, about him, Baekhyun, and him and Baekhyun together. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes it, the more he wants to be cuddled up against Baekhyun’s side on the sofa bed in front of his TV, nose pressed into his shirt, drowning in his cologne, his lean arm wrapped around his waist with his delicate fingers tracing shapes on his hip. 

There are voices telling him that Baekhyun is too old for him, but there are also voices that tell him Baekhyun has wanted the exact same thing since they met and has just been patiently waiting for it to happen. It unsettles him just a little – the idea that Baekhyun has secret feelings for him but might not do anything about it. Question is, does Kyungsoo want him to?

**Baekhyun:** _ I’ve been called away last minute this weekend so I won’t be able to make it on Saturday. I promise I’ll make it up to you.  _

Kyungsoo looks at his phone. As he reads the text, a strong pang of disappointment weighs down his chest and settles like lead in his stomach. He had suggested they go to the aquarium on Saturday, just because it is something he has always wanted to do but never had the chance to. He thought he and Baekhyun could look at the fish and ponder their sentience. 

For a second, Kyungsoo lets the disappointment swell within him until it’s pushing out through his eyes in the form of tears. Is he about to cry over this? Kyungsoo blinks angrily and looks out of his dorm window for a second, unable to understand why he’s so upset. He has more feelings about Baekhyun than he realised.

**Kyungsoo:** _ You’d better ;)  _

He doesn’t want to be soppy about it. It’s not who he is, and hopefully not who Baekhyun wants him to be. They can reschedule the aquarium, but Kyungsoo can’t reschedule his heart. He wants to get close to Baekhyun, not only emotionally but physically. He wants to see his face in 4K definition and watch his eyes flutter closed when he kisses him. He wants the warm press of his cheek against the bridge of his nose when he puts his tongue in his mouth and grips the collar of his ironed shirt and urges his knee between his thighs. 

Kyungsoo startles himself out of his mind. That  _ is  _ an interesting thought. 

*

“This is bullshit. I keep messing up the compensating variation and the equivalent variation. Who even comes up with this shit anyway? Who decides to sit down one day and just— _ create  _ economics?”

Sehun is struggling to wrap his head around semester two material. Kyungsoo can relate. It feels like his own modules have become an accomplishable task for the omniscient and no one else. 

“It’s fine, it’s an easy mistake to make.” Kyungsoo tries to comfort him without getting too emotionally invested. If it were Jongin he was tutoring, he’d probably give him a hug – they’ve been friends since primary school, so those kinds of touches are allowed. With Sehun, he needs to uphold formality – and also refrain from awkward pats on the back. “We’ll just keep going over it and you’ll get better. Practise makes perfect, right?”

Sehun looks at him with a dark glower. Kyungsoo’s hopeful smile crumbles away.

“Okay, let’s just go over it again. What are you confused about?” 

“I’m confused about the same thing I was confused about ten minutes ago, but you were too busy looking at your phone to notice.” 

At the mention of his phone, Kyungsoo glances at it. His lock screen is still empty – or rather, empty of anything useful, of which Chanyeol’s rant about the campus café running out of chocolate powder is not. He’s waiting for Baekhyun to reply. Even ten minutes feels like an eternity. Some of their texts recently have pushed their boundaries. Every time Kyungsoo sends something a little risky (though not risqué) he goes through feelings of nausea, relief and then glee. Baekhyun hasn’t minded his oversharing randomness yet. In fact, he encourages it, and was utterly enthused when Kyungsoo outlined to him how he plucks his eyebrows. 

At the moment, they’re still trying to reschedule the aquarium, a week and a half after they were supposed to go. As someone who works in sales, Baekhyun keeps getting called here, there and everywhere to shove phones down people’s throats. Finding a time when he can go looking for Nemo is proving to be difficult.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I was just trying to organise something.”

“Well,” Sehun pouts, “can we organise my success first?”

Kyungsoo chuckles, glad that Sehun doesn’t completely hate him. “Of cour—” his phone beeps and he forgets the world as he looks at it. It’s not a text from Baekhyun, but a notification from their accommodation office. Apparently, a package has arrived for him and is now waiting for collection. Only thing is, he hasn’t ordered anything.

“Fucking hell!” Sehun cries as he loses Kyungsoo to his phone yet again. “Right, give it here. You are doing this tutoring out of the good of your heart, and now I’m taking your phone away out of the good of mine. Hand it over.”

Kyungsoo forlornly hands over his phone and gets back to measuring changes in welfare. 

He doesn’t get around to collecting his package until the early evening, after he’s completed tutoring Sehun and gotten through a good chunk of his own assignments. Just before dinner time, he packs up his things in the library and heads to the accommodation office on campus, waiting in line behind a few other students before the tells the receptionist his name and is delivered an unassuming cardboard box with his name on it.

The address is quite vague, with just his name and building name on it. He ponders it on the elevator ride up to his dorm, getting a feel for the weight of the box and shaking what’s inside. It doesn’t make an identifiable noise. He reaches for a pair of scissors from his desk after dropping the box on his bed, opening them and using the end of one of the blades to sear the tape where the box flaps meet. 

Inside, there is a lot of white tissue paper, a folded invoice, and a single card with a brand name he’s never heard of printed on it. With a rustle, he puts the tissue paper aside and reveals a black hoodie. He lifts it from the box by its shoulders and takes in the different texture of he hood and the multicolour strings. On the back are bright yellow arrows that look like a warning sign for a construction site, but it’s fashion, apparently.

He eyes the box again, only now realising he’s uncovered another card that lies at the bottom. 

_ I saw this and thought of you. I hope you like it :) Baekhyun.  _

Kyungsoo stomach bubbles merrily at that, a smile creeping onto his face. He reaches for his phone immediately and calls Baekhyun without a second thought, praying that he’ll answer so he can ride out this adrenalin high now and not feel antsy with it all day. 

“Kyungsoo, hey,” Baekhyun answers, his voice muffled in the background noise.

“You bought me a hoodie!” Kyungsoo replies, still in awed, giddy shock. Baekhyun looked at something and thought he might like it. Baekhyun bought him a present.

“Oh! Thank god. I was worried the address wasn’t specific enough.”

“No, no, it arrived today. I was so confused but then—thank you, I do really like it.” Kyungsoo bites onto the side of his finger, smiling his heart out. 

“I’m glad you like it, really.” He sounds like he’s smiling. “Wear it for me the next time I see you.” 

“I will! Definitely.”

“Alright.” Baekhyun chuckles and it makes Kyungsoo’s spine tingle. “I’m going to have to go now, it’s a bit of a bad time. But I’m really glad the hoodie got to you alright and I’ll call you later if you’re around, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungsoo nods eagerly even though Baekhyun can’t see him. “Talk in a bit.”

Kyungsoo hangs up and has to stop himself from squealing. He exchanges his phone for his hoodie and presses the material to his nose, breathing it in before he races to try it on. It’s an oversized fit, the sleeves coming down over his wrists and the hem falling past his hips. The feel of the material on the inside is even softer than it is on the outside, and Kyungsoo snuggles up in bed with it on for the rest of the evening while he waits for Baekhyun to call him back. 

It becomes something of a regular occurrence – Baekhyun buying him things. He isn’t swamped in gifts, but every week he’ll head down to the accommodation office and pick up another package, either in a box or a paper bag sealed with reinforced tape. It was slightly embarrassing at first, but he and the receptionist quickly engaged in small talk and became unlikely friends. She now knows him by name and doesn’t check his ID when he shows up. 

“It’s a heavy one this time,” she says, heading towards the lockers and pulling out a medium-sized box.

Kyungsoo smiles, signing for it and taking it into his arms. 

“See you next time.” She waves him off.

When Kyungsoo gets home, he unpacks the box to find a glossy set of leather boots. The brand name is printed all over the inside of the box and at the top of the invoice. He casts the paper aside, impulsively reaching for the boots and slipping his feet into them, then lacing them up around his ankles. The leather is hard and will take time to break in, but they fit just right and Kyungsoo can see them perfectly matching the jeans Baekhyun bought him last week. 

They don’t see each other very often, but Baekhyun makes up for it with constant phone calls and snapchats throughout the day. 

“You’re quite tech savvy for an old man,” Kyungsoo told him once. 

Baekhyun had tutted and pushed him into a nearby bush. 

Quickly, he takes a picture of himself in his long mirror and sends it over with the caption ‘ _ you spoil me too much _ ’ and waits eagerly for a reply. It comes soon after as a selfie, Baekhyun sat at his desk in a shirt and tie, his computer screen reflected in his glasses. ‘ _ Looking good as ever’  _ is written across the screen with the 100 emoji. He sure does have a cute way of typing. 

Kyungsoo is posing for his response when his phone starts vibrating and the camera blinks off. He answers Baekhyun’s call once he’s made himself comfortable in bed and says hello through an excited smile.

“Hey,” Baekhyun sighs. Kyungsoo can picture him leaning back in his office chair and swivelling around to face the window. He has a good view of his city from the twenty-first floor. “How’s my Kyungsoo today?”

Kyungsoo’s heart thrums like a plucked guitar string. “I’m good. I heard about the package halfway through my last lecture and couldn’t pay attention after that.”

“Oh dear,” Baekhyun feigns disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to stop sending you things, hm?”

Kyungsoo laughs to stall, conjuring up a reply. “Maybe you should send yourself instead.”

Oh, that was forward, but Baekhyun seems to like it. “Dinner tonight, then? If you’re so desperate to see me?”

“Sounds perfect.” 

He wears a collection of items Baekhyun has bought for him in the past as well as his own eyeliner, and climbs into the backseat of the Range Rover to sit beside Baekhyun once he’s arrived on campus.

“Hey,” he says, quickly finishing off an email on his phone before he looks across and smiles. He’s wearing a grey three-piece suit with a black tie and white shirt. Kyungsoo feels his stomach somersault and can’t take his eyes off him. 

“I asked Tony to drive us today.”

“Long day?” Kyungsoo asks, concerned. He hates whenever he picks up the phone and Baekhyun sounds tired. It makes something in his chest ache whenever Baekhyun’s voice trails off like its lost, or goes on a downward decline in pitch because he doesn’t have the strength to be happy about anything. it fills Kyungsoo with one part rage, two parts determination, to expel the strain and be the reason Baekhyun smiles again. 

“The longest,” Baekhyun sighs, glancing out of the window. Kyungsoo watches his chest rise and fall. “But it got better in the afternoon.” He smiles at Kyungsoo softly then, privately, eyes glimmering almost besotted. It winds Kyungsoo, who sits there in silence until he succumbs to a blush and averts his eyes. Something is happening to him, and it’s Baekhyun’s fault. 

“We’re going to my friend’s restaurant,” Baekhyun says as he turns off his phone. Even when it’s on silent, it’s the loudest thing in the room. “Well,” Baekhyun shrugs, “he just became head chef. It’s kind of the same thing.” He flashes Kyungsoo a smile.

“Am I dressed okay?” Kyungsoo wonders. A couple of times he has showed up to classy eateries in jeans and received some scowls from other diners. He wouldn’t normally care about what people think of him, but there is something about being with Baekhyun and being in his ‘territory’ that makes him want to belong. And even if he doesn’t belong, with no money and no big business affiliated with his name, he wants to look like he does, just to pretend. 

He’s wearing a shirt, black jeans and leather shoes. In truth, the expensive brand labels are the only things that set him apart from the waiters.

“Of course, you are.” Baekhyun smiles at him sweetly for a long moment. He takes a deep breath before he looks away and it sends Kyungsoo’s heart racing out of nowhere. It heightens his senses, makes him more alert. Strangely, he never comes down from the ledge, his body constantly a little tense thereafter like it’s expecting something to happen.

They pull up on a busy road outside a restaurant in a long line of large terraced houses. Outside stand artful topiaries behind iron fences, and the path leading up to the old style white front door is lit up by LEDs sunk into the concrete. There’s a man at the door who opens it for their arrival and welcomes them with a smile, then they’re greeted by the host at her station. She seems to know Baekhyun’s face and greets him by name, taking them straight to their table in a quiet corner of the restaurant overlooking the small fountain pool in the back garden. 

The place has a homely feel despite it being lavishly decorated. There’s carpet, curtains, and sweet ornamental lamp shades. Kyungsoo sits down opposite Baekhyun and his chest leaps at the sight of him in good, wholesome, warm lighting. He looks so good that Kyungsoo forgets how to breathe for a second, his eyes entranced as Baekhyun removes his blazer and hands it to the waiter who goes to store it in a cloakroom. His waistcoat fits like a glove around his waist, giving the appearance that he has cinched himself in over his crisp, white shirt. He pinches his trousers up before he sits down to loosen them around his knees. Kyungsoo suddenly feels too warm.

“Can I get you some drinks?”

Kyungsoo lets Baekhyun order them a bottle of wine and water for the table, smiling softly, mesmerised, as Baekhyun charms the pants off the woman serving them. His smile is glorious, and looks best under the crystal light of a chandelier. 

“Your friend has a nice place,” Kyungsoo comments, trying to take his mind of things –  _ things  _ being Baekhyun looking like what Kyungsoo wants to order off the menu. 

Baekhyun smiles, looking down at the table cloth where he’s drumming his fingers. He hums, nods, then looks up at Kyungsoo with a glimmer in his eye. “I’ve missed you.”

Kyungsoo sucks in a deep breath unexpectedly. Then, a bottle of water and two glasses are being placed in front of them, followed slowly by a glass of wine. Kyungsoo waits in silence for the waiter to finish setting up their drinks, fretting over how he responds to Baekhyun’s statement. When he looks at Baekhyun, he seems uncomfortable, chin pointed down, distracted by the menu. 

The waiter leaves, giving Kyungsoo a chance to break the heavy air.

“A lot of people miss me when I’m not around.” He smirks for added effect, relaxing back in his chair when Baekhyun laughs. He spares a moment to look at his phone beside his placemat, lock screen like a strobe light with all the notifications from his friends.

“Those your friends?” Baekhyun nods to his phone.

“Yup,” Kyungsoo says. “They’re teasing me, with memes. Mostly rude, inappropriate memes which you’re too young to see.”

Baekhyun chuckles, reaching for his wine glass and taking a sip. “Why are they teasing you?”

Remembering they have drinks now, Kyungsoo pours himself some water. “Because I’m out with you.”

“You told them about me?” Baekhyun seems surprised, raising his eyebrows and rubbing his lips together after he’s swallowed down the bubbles. 

Kyungsoo shrugs, emoting his uncertainty. “Kind of. They forced it out of me, really.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun hums quietly, nodding and looking back down at the menu. Kyungsoo does the same, reading through the names of the dishes available without taking any of them in. He feels weird again, like he’s said something wrong. Baekhyun is just… off today.

“How was work?” Kyungsoo tries, immediately regretting it when Baekhyun’s face is swamped in a bitter smile and his eyes search the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “We shouldn’t talk about work.”

Did they spend too long apart from each other, or will the awkwardness soon pass? It’s only been a few weeks. Kyungsoo can’t have forgotten how to talk to Baekhyun since then. 

“It’s fine. Believe it or not, no one has asked me that question since the last time you did. And it was okay. It’s not getting better but it’s not getting worse.” 

Maybe the tension isn’t Kyungsoo’s fault, then. He can understand how doing the same thing every day can wear a person down to their bones. He gets at least three snapchats from Baekhyun a week at half-past-five in the morning after he’s just woken up, and the last ones he gets on the same days come through well past midnight. Kyungsoo always tells him to sleep well, to drink water, eat good meals, but simply telling someone to do something they’re so used to not doing can’t guarantee any physical change. It’s an attempt to break up the crippling routine, coming from a good place because he cares, deeply, and it pains him when he realises it hasn’t worked, when he has to say the same thing again the next day. 

“Baekhyun, I don’t know if this job is good for you.”

Baekhyun smiles sadly at him like he’s thought the same thing a hundred times over. “I can’t get out of it.”

It angers Kyungsoo, that Baekhyun so willingly accepts his situation even though it’s suffocating him. “ _ Why? _ ” he presses. “What’s keeping you there?”

“A contract,” Baekhyun says softly, laughing ruefully. “And, my job isn’t the kind of job where I can just leave.”

Kyungsoo leans back in his seat. “Are you actually a drug dealer? A hit man?” 

Baekhyun laughs for real this time, straightening himself out in his seat and running an elegant hand through his hair. Kyungsoo catches a whiff of his cologne from across the table and discreetly tries to inhale as much of it as possible. 

“I’m not any of those things. I promise I just sell phones. There’s nothing exciting going on.” He rests his elbows on the table and smiles sheepishly at Kyungsoo. 

“Well,” Kyungsoo looks down, distracting his hands by straightening his cutlery, “I don’t think your boss should be treating you this way. I think if you’re in a bad way, you at least deserve a vacation.”

“A vacation does sound good,” he relents. “But there’s too much going on right now.”

Kyungsoo stares at him, hard, waiting for Baekhyun to crack. “I don’t understand you.”

Those words seem to do it. Baekhyun smiles again; Kyungsoo can picture him smiling in a number of sick situations, agreeing to everything his boss throws at him because he’s too polite, too good of a person, to say no.

“I’m the sales director,” Baekhyun says. “I manage the entire country’s salesforce, granted through different regional managers, of which there are forty-something plus. I answer directly to the CEO, who I meet with every day and who briefs me on our biggest upcoming clients or investors. I don’t directly sell phones anymore, but I sell the company, which sells phones, so…” He shakes his head. “This is a relatively new promotion. I got it in October last year. I thought I was lucky…”

Kyungsoo lets out a breath. “That sounds like a lot.”

Baekhyun nods heavily. “It is.”

“Is there anything I can do?” 

He shrugs, accepting his fate. “I don’t know. Just keep sending me selfies and I’ll be alright.” 

Kyungsoo laughs, his heart feeling warm. “I can do that.”

They talk a lot more as the evening goes on, sharing stories on old part time jobs and awkward customers they’ve dealt with. Halfway through their main course, Kyungsoo gets an email about his results finally being released and he shares his decent grades with Baekhyun, who immediately flags down a waiter and orders a bottle of wine worth more than his designer outfit. 

It’s a relief that he’s passed. The nagging that has been at the back of Kyungsoo’s mind for the past three months finally subsides. 

“You’re crazy,” Kyungsoo laughs, nigh on a giggle, as Baekhyun fills his glass for him.

“Absolutely not,” he insists. “We’re celebrating!” 

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Kyungsoo gulps down the wine anyway. 

“It’s still something to be proud of,” Baekhyun says with a glimmering smile, then suggesting they order every dessert off the menu so they can try them all. 

Kyungsoo watches from what feels like far away as Baekhyun gives their order to the waiter. The chandeliers have got caught in his eyes, twinkling with the childlike desire for something sweet. It glows in the apples of cheeks, swelled into round mounds that Kyungsoo wants to squeeze between his fingers, his soft, flawless-looking skin a masterpiece on a man who gets less than six hours sleep every night and probably never washes his face. Kyungsoo might not be seeing things for what they are, but he sees how the waiter falls to Baekhyun’s charm in an instant, form relaxing, swaying with the playful banter she throws back at him. He sees how freaking good Baekhyun looks in his suit, shirt sleeves tight around his biceps, collar now unbuttoned at the top revealing his throat, and inside, his windpipe, that Kyungsoo wants to follow all the way down his body until he finds something better. He sees the moles and the stubble and the fine lines at the corner of his eyes when he delivers that show-stopping grin, and Kyungsoo thinks he might be in deeper than he thought. He is lost on what to do about it. 

“Maybe we should think ahead,” he suggests, struggling to see Baekhyun over several huge ice cream sundaes. “We should plan the next time we meet up.” He figures it will be easier to arrange it in person than over text, where their conversations are sometimes painstakingly drawn out over a week with only one or two replies a day. “Plus, if you have a heads up, you can keep your schedule free, right?”

Baekhyun plays with his spoon, smearing his mango sorbet into a paste. “In theory, yes. I won’t be free until the end of the month though.”

Kyungsoo scowls at him. “Can I see your calendar?”

Baekhyun surrenders his phone. It’s hard to find even an afternoon where Baekhyun has nothing to do, or an evening where he doesn’t have to get up early the next day. An entire two and a half weeks starting from tomorrow are blocked out in green under the name ‘London Exhibition’, at which Kyungsoo feels a spike of hurt stab him behind the ribs. Baekhyun didn’t mention it. What Kyungsoo does do, however, is pick a couple evenings a week between six and eight and label them ‘Kyungsoo Time’. Baekhyun can take them however he wants, even ignore them, but Kyungsoo does like the idea that he somehow fits into Baekhyun’s hectic life, even if it’s only for a couple hours a week. 

“I fixed it for you,” he declares, handing it back and waiting with an unanticipated racing heart while Baekhyun examines the changes. 

He breaks out in a smile and looks up at him, breathing through parted lips. His eyes betray something too soft, too affectionate. Kyungsoo lowers his gaze in response, hiding how it flusters him by physically hiding behind the ice cream. He’d anticipated some kind of feelings on Baekhyun’s part, maybe even hoped for it, but now, Kyungsoo realises he’s afraid. This isn’t a hook-up with a college guy or a relaxed date with someone his age. Baekhyun is different. Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to navigate ‘different’.

Something on his own face must show, his chorus of emotions leaking out in the wrong order and without context. Baekhyun schools his expression almost immediately, sitting back in his chair and returning his attention to his sorbet.

“How’s the cheesecake?” he asks, his voice wobbling slightly on the last syllable. He clears his throat.

Kyungsoo, despite the knot in his stomach, tries to carry on as normal. “There’s not enough brie.” 

When it’s time to pay, Baekhyun covers the bill. He gives his card to the waiter, less flamboyant than before, and taps in his pin code while praising them for the good food and fast service. They wait only a second longer after Baekhyun’s been handed his receipt for his blazer to be delivered, and he stands from his chair to shrug back into it, shirt pulling deliciously across his chest. 

Kyungsoo follows him quietly as they leave the restaurant. Baekhyun makes a quick phone call to Tony, then they stand on the pavement a little further up the road waiting for him to arrive.

“That was nice,” Kyungsoo says, shivering a little in the cool spring evening. They haven’t had the last frost yet, so he’s grateful for all the jumpers Baekhyun keeps sending him.

Baekhyun nods, eyes roaming the street. “Kyungsoo,” he says, voice quiet, tentative. 

Kyungsoo meets his eyes when he turns to him, stunned by the pain arching his eyebrows and tightening his jaw. “So, we’re not going to see each other for a while.”

For some reason, Kyungsoo feels a little ill. “Again,” he jokes flatly, glad for Baekhyun’s light laugh. 

“Right. Well, I got you something.” His hand slips inside his blazer and he retrieves an envelope. “I’m sort of worried you won’t like it so don’t open it yet.”

Kyungsoo takes it. It’s heavier than he expects it to be, and from how it feels, there’s a small chain inside. He looks up at Baekhyun, about to reply, when the words fall short on his tongue. Baekhyun is closer, maybe the closest he’s ever been, and Kyungsoo finds himself suddenly conscious of having bad breath. 

Baekhyun is distracted, eyes on Kyungsoo’s lips. It happens quickly, but it lasts a lifetime. Baekhyun leans forward and barely presses their mouths together, something so innocent that Kyungsoo doesn’t even register it as a kiss. His eyes remain open, no muscle in his face moving. Then Baekhyun pulls away, meets his eyes, and his face drains of colour as if he were a cartoon. Something in his eyes shatters. Kyungsoo realises he’s made a big mistake – he stood and did nothing.

The side of Baekhyun’s face lights up suddenly, Tony pulling up onto the curb beside them. 

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo starts, but a jerky headshake makes him stop.

“I’m sorry.” 

Baekhyun turns for the car.

The ride back to campus is silent, save for the radio Tony switches on when it becomes apparent no one is willing to talk. As Kyungsoo watches all the passing lights, occasionally bright enough for him to see his own reflection, he races through emotions like Baekhyun burns through money. He feels strangely upset that Baekhyun would display his feelings like that, and angry that he kissed him out of nowhere without warning—if it can even be considered a kiss with how tame it was. He’s also confused about his own feelings and wondering if he regrets teasing Baekhyun and being an obnoxious flirt who likes the chase but resists the kill. Frustrated that he can’t find answers, he inwardly admits that he’s disappointed in his own behaviour. He cares for Baekhyun and enjoys his presence greatly. The very notion of hurting him makes him nauseous and weary.

He can only imagine what is happening inside Baekhyun’s head. Whatever it is, Kyungsoo feels responsible. 

It’s bold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a mistake yet, but he looks over to find Baekhyun’s hand and slowly takes it in his own. He smiles at Baekhyun when he turns in surprise, keeping mum as he returns his eyes to the window. Baekhyun squeezes his hand. Kyungsoo squeezes back. Kyungsoo needs time to figure out his feelings, and Baekhyun probably needs space to get over his emotions and comprehend what he’s doing. Luckily for them, they have two and a half weeks of no direct contact to work things out.

*

“You okay? You seem quiet.” Chanyeol says, trailing behind the rest of their group with him as they leave the cinema. 

“Just some stuff on my mind,” Kyungsoo murmurs, watching the ground as he walks. 

Chanyeol claps him on the back. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Kyungsoo smiles excitedly. “Hot chocolate.”

They head to the campus café, just the two of them. The late hour means most of the tables are empty and there’s only one barista behind the counter. They take a seat on the cracked leather sofas in the corner after ordering their drinks, Chanyeol crossing his legs and lacing his hands on his knee like a marriage counsellor at a therapy session. 

“What’s the tea?”

Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo sighs. “The guy I’ve been seeing, Baekhyun, kind of kissed me the other day and then apologised. And I just stood there like an idiot and probably broke his heart because I stared at him blankly like… I don’t know, like I hated it. And I tried to make it better somehow by holding his hand, but he went to an exhibition and hasn’t messaged me once or even read what I sent him.” 

It’s been three days since the start of Baekhyun’s exhibition. From Kyungsoo’s edits to Baekhyun’s calendar, he knows that he’s already missed one ‘Kyungsoo Time’. He hasn’t gone overboard with the messages he’s sent. They’re short, simple, sweet. They wouldn’t take long to reply to. He knows, however, that if they hadn’t kissed, he’d assume Baekhyun was busy and not be affected in the slightest. Now, ignoring his messages could be deliberate. 

“I’m just confused about him and myself and what I’m doing. Because it’s different with him. He’s older.”

Chanyeol furrows his brow in concentration. “I’ll put myself in Baekhyun’s shoes, okay? Or what I think are Baekhyun’s shoes from what you’ve told me about him. So, I’m Baekhyun, old and sexy –” Kyungsoo huffs— “and this cute guy is interested in me out of nowhere and he’s kept talking to me even though I’m technically the same amount of busy as five different people. And maybe I like him. Maybe I have feelings for him, but I’m afraid because I’m older and boring and am stuck in a job, and maybe he’d be better with someone his own age who isn’t already tied down by so much. 

“But maybe we go out to dinner and he looks cuter than normal, and I want to kiss him, so I do – I assume, not forcefully – and he doesn’t react. Now I’m upset from what I think is rejection, just like any other person. But then he holds my hand in the car. What does that mean? That he’s okay with it? That he forgives me? That he wants to stay friends? Could it even mean goodbye? And he’s texted me since, but we haven’t clarified what we are. And I’m too busy with my exhibition to have a meltdown over what happened. I’ll ignore my phone for now and we can clear things up later, except I’m afraid of explicit rejection because of my tragic backstory, so maybe not. Do I carry on flirting or do I send cold, formal emails like I do to the assistant manager I don’t like? So, there you go. This is my writer brain talking. Did I do good?”

Chanyeol grins like a dog waiting to be pet. Kyungsoo only whines.

“What should I do then?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “One: I would stop treating him as ‘different’, because he’s just a regular person like any one of us. The only thing that’s different is that he has a job and travels around a lot, which will be us in a few years probably. Two: if you like him, which I’m guessing you do because you haven’t ditched him yet, at least let him know that you don’t hate him. Maybe say something sweet. Send one of those gross selfies I see you trying to take discreetly when we’re not all looking.”

He rubs his hands down his face just as their hot chocolates are delivered. “I’ll sleep on it. But maybe I’ll send him something later.”

“I hope everything works out.” Chanyeol says, peering at him over the top of his mug. “You’re cute when you blush at your phone.”

Kyungsoo picks up one of his mini marshmallows and launches one at him, then places them all on Chanyeol’s saucer anyway because marshmallows are sickly.

He doesn’t do anything about it until a week later. From his LinkedIn profile, Baekhyun seems horrendously busy and Kyungsoo throws himself into the assignments due in before Easter break. Sehun is moaning about his analysis in an essay he’s done, saying he’s either completely stupid or a genius and he wants Kyungsoo to tell him which one. Kyungsoo feels exactly the same. He keeps reminding himself that just because everything with Baekhyun is new, it doesn’t mean it’s bad. All he needs is time to navigate his way through it and emerge victorious at the end – in theory. 

But that’s where it gets difficult, because it’s not just his feelings that are involved. Baekhyun isn’t an exam or an essay. He’s not a degree or a five-year contract. He’s a person – constantly changing, constantly moving, forever fumbling and making mistakes. Kyungsoo could be one of those mistakes. But even if Baekhyun does class him as a regret, he hopes it’s temporary. Baekhyun may come to that conclusion today, tomorrow, or in several months. Kyungsoo feels like he should do something to speed things up, provide reassurance, yet what if Baekhyun wants to be the one to initiate a conversation? 

Jongin comes next, invading his dorm room with Doritos and Coke Zero.

“No eating on the bed,” Kyungsoo reminds him sternly as Jongin jumps into the cushions, disrupting his creaseless sheets. Jongin grins and all is forgiven. They watch Netflix until late in the night, fingertips orange while they wrap around the Coke, both of them drinking straight from the bottle. 

“How’s Mr Silver Fox?” Jongin teases, probably burned out of watching too much Glee. 

“I’ve already had Chanyeol’s perspective on things,” Kyungsoo says, turning the volume down on his laptop. “But what do you think I should do? We haven’t spoken all week and I don’t know if that’s my problem or his.”

Jongin takes a moment to think. “Isn’t it a problem for both of you? I mean, you’re giving him space right, after… What exactly happened again?” Kyungsoo fills him in. “Okay. But if you’re both sat there blaming the other for not messaging, are either of you ever going to speak to each other again? It’s not a weak thing to message first. And messaging first only becomes a problem if it’s recurring on a massive scale. Besides, if you left things on those terms, maybe this guy doesn’t know if  _ you _ want to speak to  _ him _ again.” 

“That’s what Chanyeol said.”

Jongin smiles at him, their faces comfortably close. “I’ve known you for ages.” He nudges him gently. “So I’m used to reading your expressions and the shit you do. But remember when we first met Luhan? He thought you hated him for a whole three months because he’d never met someone like you before. I mean, you’re weird, quiet, and sometimes come out with a rude joke. You’re so dry and sarcastic sometimes that strangers might think you’re mean. So I think if you just help this guy understand you, everything will be alright.” 

Kyungsoo rests his head on Jongin’s shoulder, deflating. “He gave me something. An envelope. I didn’t open it yet.”

“No time like the present.”

Sitting up, Kyungsoo reaches across his room to his desk, taking the envelope and then sitting cross-legged on the bed facing Jongin.

“I think it’s some kind of necklace,” he guesses, peeling back the seal and blindly dipping his hand in to pull out whatever it is. He hears Jongin gasp before he looks at it, then lowers his eyes to identify what lies in his palm.

“That’s so pretty!” Jongin exclaims, sitting up and mirroring Kyungsoo’s position. 

It’s a dog tag necklace, just a simple silver chain with a small metal tag on the end. The tag itself is extravagantly embellished with geometric, art deco designs making up the backdrop for a large letter K. It  _ is _ pretty. He holds it up in the air to watch it dangle and turn under the light, suspecting that Baekhyun had this custom made as a statement gift, a present that meant ‘you are more than a friend to me’. And fuck, does Kyungsoo want to say something now.

After Jongin leaves, Kyungsoo quickly takes a shower and then slips the necklace over his head so he can see it in the mirror. He runs his hands through his hair, spiking it up, then rubs himself down with a towel and dresses before dropping onto his bed. He holds the tag in his finger and thumb, admiring it, then stares at the ceiling with determination. 

He snaps a picture of himself lying in bed, legs on display in shorts he’s had for too many years that are now too small, and captions it  _ reply to me, I miss you.  _ It’s probably too much, but it sends a message that he thinks is hard to misinterpret. If that doesn’t give Baekhyun hope, he’ll have to send him nudes. 

He’s not expecting such a sudden reply. A shy emoji comes through first, then Baekhyun starts typing. The three little dots give Kyungsoo a headache while he waits, palms going sweaty around his phone.

**Baekhyun:** _ Sorry, long week ^^  _

Kyungsoo bites his lip.

**Kyungsoo:** _ Tell me about it?  _

**Baekhyun:** _ Did a speech, charmed some people. Pretty much sums it up. Bet your week was better _

**Kyungsoo:** _ It’s better now :3  _

A few seconds later, Baekhyun sends a selfie of half his face pressed against a pillow, smiling cutely with squinted droopy eyes. Kyungsoo shamelessly screenshots it, even if the caption is  _ why are you like this? _

**Kyungsoo:** _ I opened the envelope btw. I love it _

**Baekhyun:** _ I’m glad ^^ I wanted to get you something nice _

**Kyungsoo:** _ Everything you get me is nice _

**Baekhyun:** _ I have good taste. Are you wearing it now? can I see?  _

Kyungsoo taps his screen in thought, still holding onto the dog tag and pulling it from side to side, enjoying the feel of the chain against his skin. He opens his front camera out of interest and rests the dog tag on his lips, taking a picture before he can decide he looks stupid. 

**Baekhyun:** _ I knew it would suit you _

**Kyungsoo:** _ Am I your puppy now? ¬u¬ _

Baekhyun’s reply takes a second, but once it comes through, Kyungsoo feels something stir deep inside him.

**Baekhyun:** _ Only if you’re a good boy _

Fuck. He’s getting turned on.

**Kyungsoo:** _ I’d be the best  _

Waiting for the next message is torture. Kyungsoo doesn’t want this to end. He’s screaming  _ please, please, please  _ in his head when it pops up on his screen. 

**Baekhyun:** _ I wish you were here. or that I was there _

He really needs to calm down. He can’t believe how hot his forehead feels when he puts his palm to it. How long as it been since he’s been aroused like that? A year, at least. 

**Kyungsoo:** _ you know what I want? _

**Baekhyun:** _ What?  _

**Kyungsoo:** _ for you to kiss me properly next time _

In one shaky move, Kyungsoo locks his phone and slams it face down on his chest. Why did he say that?  _ Why would he say that? _ He’s in for it now. There’s no going back. When his phone vibrates, he shivers from a sudden chill. He dreads Baekhyun’s reply. What if he pushed it too far and now he has written rejection forever branded into his phone, his mind, his eyes. Maybe Baekhyun has been laughing good-heartedly this whole time, thinking it was some carefree, playful banter. How stupid he must be—

He looks. He can’t help himself. And Christ, he wasn’t expecting  _ that. _

**Baekhyun:** _ I can do more than kiss you _

His heart rate skyrockets. 

**Kyungsoo:** _ I want you to _

**Baekhyun:** _ You do? _

**Kyungsoo:** _ Yes. I want everything _

**Baekhyun:** _ Then I’ll give you everything _

Maybe Kyungsoo gets himself off to that.

*

“Do you ever just look at your notes and cry because you don’t understand anything?” Luhan grumbles, slamming his notepad shut with a huff and slurping up his Frappuccino through a straw. 

“Literally me during A levels,” Chanyeol snorts, not looking away from his laptop. 

It’s well past eight o’clock and their study session is far from ending, but at least the library is quiet now that most students have gone home for Easter. For Kyungsoo and Jongin, their parents don’t live too far away so they can hop back and forth between home and campus on a short train ride. For Chanyeol and Luhan, going home means trains and planes and taxis. 

Kyungsoo packed his stuff away a while ago, eyes switching between his phone screen and Jongin biting the end of his pen – which is disgusting, by the way. He swears time is moving slower than usual. 20:43PM. Baekhyun should be here any minute, fresh back from London. Kyungsoo wonders which car he’ll bring. 

It’s been torture waiting for Baekhyun’s exhibition to be over. They kept up the suggestive talk until late last night, practically edging Kyungsoo for a week and a half because every time he rubbed one out, Baekhyun was sending something even more intense than the last time. Kyungsoo doesn’t know what he expected of Baekhyun when he met him, but it wasn’t messages like  _ I bet you’d look good in my shirts  _ and  _ I’ll spoil you rotten baby.  _ At least he’s classy about it, which fits with his overall aesthetic. Except, that’s part of the problem. There’s no cringey  _ wanna fuck you so bad  _ or  _ bet you’d feel so good on my dick.  _ Baekhyun is sophisticated, respectful, and it just serves to make Kyungsoo hornier, because  _ yes,  _ he does want to wear one of Baekhyun’s shirts and  _ fuck _ does he want to be spoiled. 

“Someone’s getting excited,” Chanyeol comments, waggling his eyebrows. 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “I just don’t want to be late.”

He knows what he’s going to do as soon as he gets in the car. He’s going to—his phone beeps and he looks down immediately. He’s here. 

“Have a good time!” Luhan says.

“Let us know where you are,” Jongin then insists, looking at him with concerned eyes.

Kyungsoo stands up and throws his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll be fine, guys. Just follow me on the GPS app that you stalkers made me get.”  Chanyeol grins deviously at him as he walks away.

He finds his way out the library, navigating through tables and bookshelves to the revolving door at the entrance. He shoots Baekhyun a quick message asking him when he’s parked and starts to cross campus at his response, rounding a building and seeing his Maserati humming against the curb with the parking lights on. Bystanders are admiring it, commenting on its beauty. Kyungsoo ducks his head down on the approach, opening the door and sliding effortlessly into the passenger seat and straight over the centre console. He doesn’t care that it’s digging into his ribs. He cups Baekhyun’s cheek and turns him towards him before he can say ‘hey’ and kisses him abruptly, consuming his essence through his mouth until Baekhyun has to physically urge him away.

“Hey,” Baekhyun pants, breathless with parted lips. He pecks Kyungsoo carefully, a languid ordeal, treating him to another kiss because even Kyungsoo himself knows he looks desperate for it. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” Kyungsoo groans, finally settling into his own seat. The raging fire within him has been doused with ice, but the embers still burn steadily under the surface. He leans towards Baekhyun’s seat again, resting his elbow on the console and his hand on Baekhyun’s thigh. Baekhyun entwines their fingers together without a second thought. It’s like they’ve skipped the awkward stage and are now just… together. Kyungsoo beams at the thought, having to hide his over-excited smile by looking out the window. 

“Me too,” Baekhyun replies, setting the car in drive and revving the engine to such an obnoxiously loud volume that everyone in a three mile radius probably turns to stare. “Do you want to go out somewhere or just straight to my place?”

“Your place.” Kyungsoo has this all figured out in his head. He knows exactly how he wants this night to pan out and it’s living up to his expectations thus far. Kiss Baekhyun the second he sees him, get to watch him drive, go back to his apartment. Everything is on track. 

The ride seems to last only a couple of seconds, with Baekhyun constantly running at the speed limit and remaining in the overtaking lane of the city centre ring road. They finish up their conversation about Kyungsoo’s upcoming exams in the elevator, then Baekhyun taps in the pin code to his apartment and turns around to look at him, smirking.

“Oh-five-oh-six, by the way. If you ever want to let yourself in.”

As soon as the door releases and Baekhyun pushes it open, Kyungsoo is grabbing onto him and backing him against the wall, taking his lips with a needy moan that sends Baekhyun’s hands grasping at his hips. He’s an amazing kisser, nigh incredible. Kyungsoo could melt into him like magma if given the time, become a part of him to make him stronger, a reinforced Baekhyun better prepared to face the world. 

Baekhyun pushes him back and kisses him down the hallway. Stumbling backwards, Kyungsoo prays that Baekhyun knows exactly where he’s going. They end up on the sofa, Kyungsoo’s longing at long last abated. He takes his time exploring Baekhyun’s mouth and his sounds, taking each lip individually between his own and nipping at them before he pulls away. He forgets to breathe through his nose, he’s that into it, so he pulls back for a breath of air after several minutes of mindless heaven. 

His eyes are blurry when he blinks them open, allowing them to readjust to his surroundings. Neither of them bothered to turn on a light, Baekhyun’s face lit by the moon and the city just several metres away out the window. He’s beautiful, ridiculously beautiful. The delicate lids of his eyes and the gentle drift of lashes that frame them are enrapturing. The way his lips are carved from his face, precisely plump, makes Kyungsoo foster a deep hunger in the pit of his stomach. He watches as Baekhyun beholds his face, eyes entranced, a small smile brewing at the corners of his mouth, and genuinely feels like he’s full of air and could float into the atmosphere at any minute. 

“We should talk,” he says, sucking in an embarrassing breath when Baekhyun meets his eyes directly. This is one of the most intimate things he’s ever done. He feels shier than ever but he won’t back down now.

“Okay,” Baekhyun says, kissing him again and making Kyungsoo lose his train of thought.

“Uh,” he grunts dumbly, then snaps out of it. “I like you.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes darken. “I like you too.”

Kyungsoo audibly gulps. “Okay,” he says, cupping Baekhyun’s face again and looking him over. “Great talk.” Then he kisses him fiercely, clambering into his lap and throwing his jacket behind him. Baekhyun’s apartment is suddenly too hot and he fights to breathe, trying to relieve both their bodies of their suffocating layers so he can feel skin against skin. 

They kiss until Kyungsoo’s lips start to feel puffy and swollen and Baekhyun has descended on his throat, lathering his skin with little bites and sucks that make him shudder and harden in his pants. He digs his fingernails into Baekhyun’s shoulders and moans wantonly when Baekhyun’s tongue traverses his collarbone, hands easily removing his top and opening him up to whatever else Baekhyun is willing to do. 

In some ways, they’re moving fast. This is technically their first ‘date’ and they’re already at the stage of dry humping and making out like everything they need to survive is buried in the other person’s throat. But to some extent, it has taken them four and a half months to get here, grinding on Baekhyun’s thighs like a horny teenager because fuck, Baekhyun is still in his suit and shirt and he looks so sexy when he pulls back to bite his lip. 

“What do you want to do?” Baekhyun asks, voice sending vibrations along Kyungsoo’s neck where he speaks directly into his wet skin. 

Kyungsoo lies down against the headrest and guides Baekhyun on top of him, enclosing his hips with his legs and ushering him down with a hand on the back of his neck for a long kiss. Kyungsoo doesn’t know how he managed to wait this long for something so good. Was he blind before? Did he  _ seriously  _ think he wouldn’t fall for this guy? 

“I came prepared,” he replies, bucking up into Baekhyun’s pelvis, communicating his arousal and desperate need for something to happen. Baekhyun’s eyes ooze with arousal and he bows his head, watching Kyungsoo’s intense expressions with a glazed gaze. “You said you’d give me everything,” Kyungsoo adds innocently, coquettishly upping the pitch of his voice.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows lower and his expression hardens. “I will,” he utters kindly, and lowers himself against Kyungsoo to devour him whole.

Kyungsoo’s body clock wakes him up early around nine. With the automatic blinds shut, it looks like the middle of the night, his vision soon adjusting to identify Baekhyun’s face against the pillow. He remembers last night with butterflies in his stomach and a sore stretch. It makes him smile, how they’d spent almost an hour saying goodnight to one another but were too busy kissing to actually go to sleep – a nice change from one night stands who awkwardly stare at you until you leave.

He slips quietly out of bed, guessing his way around the room in the dark. Baekhyun’s shirt is a crumpled heap on the floor but Kyungsoo slips it on anyway, jumping at the sound of the small motor that slowly starts to edge the blinds up towards the ceiling. Daylight creeps into the room, the morning sun a deluge that hits Kyungsoo right in the eyes. 

“Good morning,” Baekhyun says, voice raspy. He folds an arm behind his head and smiles down his nose at Kyungsoo, looking completely unfair and illegal. 

“Morning.” Kyungsoo pads his way over, buttoning up the shirt as he goes. Baekhyun is a little taller than him, so the hem reaches the top of his thighs. If he were to bend over in front of someone, though, they’d get quite a shock. 

Perching on the edge of the bed, he smiles at Baekhyun whose hand instantly reaches out to touch him. The fabric of his shirt feels like silk against his skin. With every crinkle, it lets off some of Baekhyun’s leftover cologne. 

“Why are you up so early?”

“I’m going to make breakfast.” 

Baekhyun’s smile grows beautifully. “That’d be nice,” he whispers, bringing the back of Kyungsoo’s hand to his lips. “Keep the shirt,” he adds when Kyungsoo’s stood up and leaving, smirking. Kyungsoo deliberately sways his hips on his way out of the room.

*

To create a revision timetable, Kyungsoo starts writing lists of every topic in every subject. With the newly released exam dates, he starts paving his way to June on his phone calendar, noting down what he’s going to revise every day and when he’s going to do past papers and mock essays. It’s painful to watch it all build up like a blood clot, but today won’t last forever. He knows that soon he’ll be past it and looking back at himself stressing out for no reason. Everything has an expiry date.

“So it’s just random where you put stuff?” Sehun asks, crossing things off his own topics list and tapping them into his phone. Of course, Kyungsoo can’t do this by himself. He has to teach Sehun how to do it as well.

“Do them in an order than makes sense.”

Sehun hums, scowling at his phone, then his notebook, then at Kyungsoo. “I have a question.” He locks his phone and places it on the table – so the question isn’t about his revision.

Kyungsoo finishes typing before he looks up at him. “What?”

Sehun narrows his eyes, tapping the eraser-end of his pencil into the table. Kyungsoo can almost hear the graphite breaking inside. “My flatmate Amber saw you getting into a Maserati last week.”

He tries to look nonchalant, as if getting into a sportscar is normal. 

“But that’s not the only thing I’ve noticed,” Sehun carries on. “I mean, you practically come to these tutoring sessions wearing Gucci. What gives? Do you have a sugar daddy or something? And if yes, where do I get one?”

Kyungsoo freezes, his mind repeating those two words over and over.  _ Sugar daddy. Sugar daddy.  _ Is Baekhyun his  _ sugar daddy?!  _ The unwelcome epiphany makes him feel ill. Questions drown him in noise, his mind racing a mile a minute to work out if Baekhyun has been  _ buying  _ him this entire time. How did he never notice? How did he never think it was weird that Baekhyun just—spent hundreds, maybe even thousands on him, for no real reason other than  _ I think this would look good on you.  _

_ Now you’ve slept with him. What’s your reward for that?  _

Kyungsoo jerks at his own thoughts, looking up at Sehun and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to explain himself. 

“Uh, no,” he panics, stammering his way through a sentence, “they’re—I buy them from Depop.”

Sehun deadpans. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“I have to go.” Kyungsoo gets away as fast as his feet can carry him, forgetting half his belongings in his haste. 

When he gets to his dorm room, it’s safe to say that he has at least a fraction of a breakdown. His eyes suddenly well up with tears and he grips his hair in his fists, holding back the urge to scream. But being in his room doesn’t make him feel better like it normally would. Everywhere he looks, there’s something from Baekhyun: the trainers askew by the door, the hoodie slung over his desk chair, the pyjamas scrunched in a heap at the bottom of his bed. Around his neck hangs the heaviest thing of all, the dog tag. 

He thought Baekhyun was being nice. In his head, Baekhyun was just—but now Kyungsoo thinks about it, how on earth can he justify what’s been going on? Baekhyun sends him something worth more than his rent every week and he just shrugged it off like it was normal. Did he have a motive? Was it all just a way to butter him up to get him into bed? 

“Oh shit,” Kyungsoo hisses, feeling like he’s about to gag. Baekhyun wouldn’t do that, would he? He wouldn’t lure him into bed with expensive gifts and the shy, rich guy act. Then again, how would Kyungsoo know he was lying? How would he know anything? 

In an act of revolt, Kyungsoo throws the pyjamas off his bed and hurls the hoodie out of his sight, then crumples down in his own heap because what if everything he’s just thought is completely wrong? He doesn’t know whether to be grateful or not. He can’t tell if this is normal. Is this what older people do in relationships? Is he just not used to it? But that can’t be right. Relationships aren’t founded on money – most of them, anyway. Someone older, more mature, should recognise that. 

He clamps onto his knuckles with his teeth, aware that if he lets himself, he’ll start bawling and alert his flatmates. He wonders if they’ve noticed anything, if they’ve been talking about him behind his back because he’s suddenly not wearing high street brands anymore. He looks like a fucking prostitute. Maybe that’s what Baekhyun intended him to be, whether he was aware of it or not. 

But none of these evil things seem to fit with Baekhyun’s soul. Kyungsoo knows that he’s working himself up, letting his thoughts run astray to places and things he’d never otherwise consider. He needs to hear it straight from Baekhyun. What’s going on, why he’s doing it, what the gifts mean. He can’t sit here and worry for days, not even hours, without knowing.

With the first wave past him, Kyungsoo focuses on getting his breathing back in check. He plays some solitaire on his phone to calm down until the ads get annoying, then clicks on his and Baekhyun’s shared calendar. When Kyungsoo first saw it, he remembers thinking he’d die inside if his life ever got so hectic. It’s chock-a-block with different coloured tabs that open into detailed notes when clicked on. Kyungsoo can see all Baekhyun’s activities, including their locations and times, and the ones that are rescheduled or cancelled. He can also see the sneaky ‘Kyungsoo Time’s he’s dotted around for the next month. His brain is so overloaded that he doesn’t have an emotional response to those. 

In true Kyungsoo fashion, however, he wants to be level-headed and reasonable. Jumping to conclusions only benefits the naïve. Sitting around and moping for the next four days Baekhyun is scheduled to be away just isn’t his style when it could be resolved now. Breakdown lulled, he types a quick message.

**Kyungsoo:** _ Are you busy? ^^ _

He can’t scare Baekhyun away before they’ve even started talking, so he pretends things are fine. Still, the guilt of leading Baekhyun into a trap doesn’t sit well with him. Being backed into a corner is one of the worst ways to feel. 

**Baekhyun:** _ Give me half an hour and I’ll call you  _

Okay, Kyungsoo thinks, that works. He has time to prepare, but it’s not too long to wait that he’ll go crazy. 

**Kyungsoo:** _ Skype please ;* _

**Baekhyun:** _ Course :) _

Still, it eats away at him until Baekhyun calls. Kyungsoo makes himself a hot chocolate in the meantime. He sits at his desk with his laptop in front of him, wiping his clammy palms along his denim thighs. Even now that he’s calmed down, he can’t comprehend that idea that Baekhyun had ulterior motives in getting to know him. The past four months have been the sweetest of his life. If it all turned out to be some sick lie, Kyungsoo’s going to throw punches. 

He accepts the call when it comes through and feels his stomach soar when Baekhyun loads onto his screen, gorgeous even in a plain white shirt. For a second, all of his worries evaporate. Just looking at his face, the one he’s learned to trust and admire, has him questioning his entire life from the past hour. 

“Hey,” Baekhyun smiles, the poor lighting making his cheeks appear rounder. He sips something from a thick mug and sighs. Kyungsoo rests his chin on his fist and gazes at him longingly. Baekhyun really is adorable sometimes. He wishes they could do this in person. 

“Hello.”

Baekhyun licks his lips and grins. “Was there a reason for this call?” He’s only playing with him. Kyungsoo never needs a reason to call Baekhyun, he just does. But the reminder of what he needs to ask has Kyungsoo’s smile wilting. “Am I in trouble?” Baekhyun doesn’t seem to notice at first, but Kyungsoo sits up straight and looks down at his hands in his lap. There’s a small chance he’s about to ruin everything. There’s also the chance that Baekhyun’s going to turn out to be completely different person, but looking at him now, Kyungsoo really struggles to believe that could be true. 

“I am in trouble, aren’t I?”

Kyungsoo winces. “I just have a question. I’m sorry, I know it’s not fair to do this.”

“No, go ahead. What do you want to ask?” Baekhyun repositions himself in his office chair, swivelling a little to the side. 

Kyungsoo admires him through the screen, praying that whatever he says won’t upset him. “Why do you buy me so many things?”

Baekhyun bows his head, a half nod. His fingers curl around the ends of the arm rests and he pushes his hips to the back of the seat. “They’re just things I see that remind me of you.” 

He smiles despite himself, feeling his heart flinch because he needs to press harder. “Do you feel like you have to?”

It could be the lighting, but Baekhyun seems paler. He shakes his head just a little. “I don’t follow.”

Taking a deep breath, Kyungsoo wipes his hands down again. “Do you feel like you have to buy me things to make me hang out with you?” 

Shock makes Baekhyun freeze, his mouth falling open. “No! I—That’s not what this is.” He sounds scared, voice trembling, shoulders hunched over as he leans towards the webcam. “Kyungsoo, I promise that’s not what I’m doing. I just… I feel bad that I’m hardly ever here. I know how hard it can be for someone.”

“Do you think that if you go away for a week, I’ll forget about you?” He believes Baekhyun, but he’s upset. Baekhyun says it’s not like that but then implies that it is, buying him things because he’s afraid Kyungsoo will disappear if he’s gone for too long. What stupidity. Does he not take Kyungsoo’s feelings seriously? Is he just some dumb college boy now, waiting to get in the pants of any random guy who walks by?

“Some people do,” Baekhyun murmurs, cowering back from the screen. 

Kyungsoo senses some underlying issues from Baekhyun’s past, people who didn’t treat him right, took advantage of him. But how could he ever think Kyungsoo is one of those people? It makes him want to scream. It makes him want to shake Baekhyun until he’s screaming too and they can both empty their lungs together because he’s so  _ frustrated  _ that Baekhyun thinks so little of himself, and so little of him in return. 

“Is that all the credit you’re going to give me? You think I’d leave if you didn’t buy me the new Gucci sliders?” Kyungsoo can’t help how his voice raises in volume or that he starts to sound angry. He’s about ready to have a screaming match when Baekhyun hides his face in his hands and his shoulders tremble for a fraction of a second. “Those people took advantage of you and they didn’t deserve you. I don’t care who they are. But I’m not them. Why would you think I could be? Did I do something? Did I say something weird one time?”

It’s like what Jongin said: at first, people don’t understand him. They think he hates them. 

Kyungsoo hasn’t felt so out of himself in a long time. Is his very existence wrong and misleading? Does he hurt people and never realise it? Do his jokes not land and his smiles seem cruel? 

“I’m so sorry, Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun looks like he’s fighting to keep himself together, eyes glassy, the corners of his mouth turned down. “You haven’t done anything, I swear. I never meant for you to interpret it this way. I really do just like buying you things and—it was just a way for me to say sorry for being away so often. I’ve never done it to buy you. At least, not consciously. Those people… you’re right, they weren’t good. It’s something I need to work on, I understand that.” 

Kyungsoo hangs his head, deflating into his seat like a punctured life vest. He’s been too harsh. All the thoughts race back from earlier, all the back things he thought about Baekhyun. How could he have been so horrible? How could he even  _ think  _ Baekhyun would treat him like that? 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m being mean again. I don’t know what to think anymore. People tell me I’m confusing and that I’m weird. And people are starting to notice that I’m wearing all this new stuff and getting into fancy cars on campus. You know what it looks like, right?” He grimaces. “I was asked today if I had a sugar daddy and it just… threw me through the wringer. I don’t want people thinking that I do  _ that  _ just for a new coat.” 

Baekhyun bristles. Even with the standard built-in microphones, Kyungsoo catches his sharp intake of breath. “Kyungsoo, that’s never what this was about. I swear to you. I never even planned for us to get together. I just wanted to be with you, even if that meant only being friends.”

Through a bout of oncoming tears, Kyungsoo smiles. “I like you.” His voice is thick, throat swelling as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. “And I mean that. I like  _ you.  _ Not your money or your cars or your apartment. I just like you, even when you’re not here.” 

Lips wobbling, Baekhyun looks at him. He dabs the pads of his thumbs to his eyelashes to stop tears from falling, elegant even in a crisis. “I like you too,” he says reverently. How could Kyungsoo ever think he was lying? “I never meant to make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s fine. Just, maybe stop sending me things for a while. I’m starting to attract attention. I’m sure the lady who gives me my post will miss me, but I think it’s for the best.” 

“Okay.” Baekhyun nods eagerly. “I can do that.” 

“Or just… stockpile it and wait for Christmas?” Kyungsoo grins, lightening up the mood. Baekhyun falls into it instantly, his smile glorious where it sits on his face. 

“I can do that too,” he says, voice smug. “I’m glad we talked about this now.”

“Me too. I’m sorry I didn’t wait to do it in person.”

Shaking his head, Baekhyun says, “No, no. From my experience, it’s better to do these things straight away. I’m glad you did, honestly.”

“You’re just different from the people I’ve been with before. I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing for once. Though when I spoke to my friends they told me I was making a big deal out of nothing.” 

Baekhyun smile picks up from one corner, secretly happy at the mention of Kyungsoo’s friends. “What did they say?”

“Well,” he chuckles, “Chanyeol said you were just a regular person which I think is complete bullshit. You’re clearly insane.”

Throwing his head back, Baekhyun laughs to the ceiling, the sound still high definition through Kyungsoo’s shitty speakers. “I must be if I put up with you.”

Kyungsoo really tries not to find him funny. “When you come back, I’m going to be in your apartment ready to give you the jump scare of your life.”

Baekhyun smiles lovingly at him. “I won’t be back until late. My train gets in at one AM.”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Well, I don’t have anywhere important to be the next day.” 

He shakes his head at Kyungsoo like he’s the naughty kid, but his smirk betrays him. “Alright then. I look forward to it.”

Kyungsoo bites his lip. “Okay, Daddy _. _ ”

Baekhyun holds up a threatening finger, his face stern. “ _ No.”  _

  
  
  


**Epilogue**

Only the ticking of the clock breaks up the absolute silence, the sounds of the city keeping close to the ground. The front door beeps and Kyungsoo shrinks back against the wall, holding his breath as the lock opens and a couple footsteps walk inside. 

Baekhyun seems to pause in the hallway, taking a moment to close the door after he’s turned on the light. Kyungsoo’s surprised he didn’t ask his Amazon Alexa to do it. His steps are slow, measured. With each one, Kyungsoo tenses more and more, clamping his lips shut so he doesn’t burst out laughing. 

He doesn’t plan what sound he’s going to make, but when Baekhyun appears around the corner, he leaps out at him and yells garbled mess. Baekhyun’s jump is the funniest thing, rippling through his whole body from his shoulders to his feet. He makes this weird gurgling noise and glares at Kyungsoo with his fists out like he’s going to punch him.

“How did I still jump even though I knew it was going to happen?!” he cries, indignantly throwing down his blazer and suitcase and pouting sadly at Kyungsoo. 

Kyungsoo sniggers, a little  _ tee hee hee  _ before he closes his arms around Baekhyun’s neck, grinning up at him. “That was fun.”

With an eyebrow raised, Baekhyun slips his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist. He doesn’t seem impressed, but Kyungsoo knows he’s just pretending. He marvels at how easy it is for them to fall into step. It’s like they’ve known each other their whole lives. Even though there is plenty more to learn, Kyungsoo is glad they can look at one another, insecurities out, open and honest, and still be smiling contentedly. 

The cycle will probably repeat in a few months, another disagreement to contend with, but their arms will be progressively tighter around each other each time it passes. Kyungsoo has that to look forward to, and a hell of a lot more. 


End file.
